Limbo
by chumato
Summary: A collection of short stories revolving around Tomoyo, Eriol and their very strange relationship. Somewhat linear storyline, varying ratings and themes, dark and lighter chapters.
1. Phobia

**PART ONE: Phobia**

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><p><strong>oOoOoOo<strong>

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><p>She feared loneliness but lived with it all her life. There was that dull, twisting pain that bore deep into her body and lingered for a while. Tomoyo sat listlessly in her tidy apartment contemplating her lonely state, with no pest or single dustbunny to keep her company. She had moved out to Tokyo for college while her friends decided to stay in Tomoeda, and she could only imagine with some heat of jealousy all the weekend bonding they shared and the comfort that could come with close proximity. Even at home there wouldn't be much to go back to besides the few butlers and maids that kept her mother's large home neat and running.<p>

The coldness of a large metropolis made it easy for her to further alienate herself from everything else. She found a strange comfort in the pain of being alone; or, as she decided to understand it, she began to realize the thrill of being liberated from everything else and became accustomed to it.

Tomoyo had joined clubs at her university but did so just to please her mother. She participated in group projects but did disdainfully so. She was developing sociopathic tendencies during a period of her life where she should have been acting quite the opposite.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

She opened the door to see a familiar face.

"I was feeling terribly lonely, and you know I hate being alone." Eriol smiled as he stepped into the room.

"Couldn't you have gone to the park or a bar?" Tomoyo asked with impatience in her voice. She realized it was too late when he took off his shoes.

"You're too cruel, my lady. Why don't you admit that you hate being alone as well?"

She rolled her eyes and pulled her hair from her face. He smiled at the gesture, taking a step to stand closer to her and placing his hands on her waist.

"Admit you at least missed my touch?"

"You should leave now. I'm busy."

Eriol carried a light, wistful scent of the brisk autumn air outside. His eyes seemed to indicate that he knew she really had nothing productive to work on.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her cheek. She couldn't help but smile at the warmth.

"You have to admit you missed my kiss."

Her previous fears seemed to melt away at the timbre of his voice and the softness of his touch. A strange relief washed over her, and she smiled at his handsome face.

"Never."


	2. Addict

**PART TWO: Addict**

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><p><strong>oOoOoOo<strong>

* * *

><p>Tomoyo's bedroom had become full of smoke by the time the languor made her too tired to reach for more opium. She slumped in her bed, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling.<p>

Eriol rolled over next to her and blew out a cloud of smoke from pursed lips. He set aside his pipe and chuckled.

"Who would have thought that Tomoyo Daidouji would ever become a druggie?"

She could barely keep her eyes open.

"I told you 'no' at first, but you kept insisting."

"You needed to relax, and I had just the cure."

He began to nuzzle her neck and stroked her hair with his fingers. She sighed in response.

"I'm only using this as a medical supplement. You've been addicted for years."

Eriol placed slow kisses along her collarbone before saying, "It's your skin I'm addicted to now. How could I resist its silky temptations?"

She lazily ran her fingers through his soft dark hair.

"I might be addicted to having your mouth on my body," she mumbled.

Tomoyo dozed off before Eriol could respond.


	3. Dance

**PART THREE: Dance**

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><p><strong>oOoOoOo<strong>

* * *

><p>She thought she'd please her mother by showing up to the company's annual banquet... alone. Sonomi Daidouji was a strong and capable woman of high esteem, and there was no saying what she would do if she saw her daughter with a shady, suspicious man.<p>

Tomoyo sat at the table, picking at her food and hoping no one would bother to speak with her. She kept her head down and concentrated on making sure her hair concealed her face. Unfortunately, she was sharing a table with a group of yuppies whom her mother had hand-picked as potential suitors or companions.

As per her sociopathic streak, Tomoyo brushed them off as lightly as she could.

Then, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Would you care to dance, Miss Daidouji?"

She turned around to see a familiar insufferable man. She gasped and then scowled, immediately standing from her seat.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was invited." He grinned in his black suit.

She grasped his wrist and rushed through the banquet hall and into a corridor, pushing him against a wall.

"Only company members get invitations. You should not have known about this!" she hissed.

"I have ways, you know. I'm magical."

"And snoopy. You looked in my bag or something, didn't you."

He shrugged innocently.

"I'm here now, and everyone saw you take me into a dark hallway. There's no turning back, Tomoyo."

She sighed and let go of his suit.

"I guess it is too late," she admitted.

He took her hand and brushed his thumb against her fingers. He certainly knew how to persuade her.

"So how does a dance sound to you?"

"It sounds... wonderful."

They walked, slowly arm in arm toward the dance floor in front of the soft jazz band. He drew her close against his body, looking intently into her eyes. His eyes appeared so calm and content behind his glasses, and he looked as charming as ever. Tomoyo could feel the gentle pressure of his hands against her waist, which was gradually making its way toward the small of her back.

"My mother is going to want to kill you when she sees you touching me like this."

"Then I might as well have fun while I can."

"I think I will, too."

Tomoyo pressed her hands against his bottom and shot him a playful smile. He raised a brow in return. She laid her head against his shoulder, swaying against the smooth music.

"Aren't you glad I came to save the night?" he asked into her ear.

"I'll be sure to invite you to the next party."


	4. Repeat

**PART FOUR: Repeat**

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><p><strong>oOoOoOo<strong>

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><p>It was happening again.<p>

The sickening, fiery gyre was forming from the pits of her stomach and starting to consume her inside out. Her head was ringing and she could hear the pounding of her heart against her chest. She shakily staggered over to her sofa, falling onto the seat and hugging her knees to maintain some core control over her body.

Sakura's voice from the phone sounded off again and again in her mind, hurting her like a blow to the face each time.

_"Tomoyo, Syaoran proposed to me last night. I said yes and almost fainted. I'm going to need all your help for the wedding!"_

She felt as though a train had hit her.

_"Ah..." she stammered, lost for words. "That's great Sakura, I'm busy right now and I'll have to call you back later."_

_"S-sure Tomoyo! Sorry I bothered you."_

The disappointment in Sakura's voice was too obvious to ignore. Tomoyo did not mean to act so rude, but she felt like vomiting.

The heat finally reached her head and she seemed absolutely unable to stop herself from crying; she'd been in this hysteric situation before, and it didn't go too well.

Her sweet voice was on a perpetual repeat in her head and echoed to further agonize her.

_"I said yes."_

Of course she said yes. They had been together nearly all their lives. A proposal should not have come as any kind of surprise to Tomoyo, but it had one hell of an effect.

Without much thinking, Tomoyo picked up the phone she had previously dropped to the floor and began dialing.

At the sound of an answer she simply said, "I think I'm going to die."

An urgent knock sounded at the door not too long later.

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><p><strong>End Note:<strong> Like I wrote in the "summary" for this collection, some stories will be a bit darker than others- in the sense that things will be somewhat realistic and less fluffy. I don't usually try to be too melodramatic. Eugh. If you don't like it, sorry!


	5. Beg

**PART FIVE: Beg**

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><p><strong>oOoOoOo<strong>

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><p>"He proposed to her," she spluttered, all the misery of the world present in her eyes and warping her voice into an incoherent wail. Her fingers were curled into fists so tight she wasn't sure if she was going to break something.<p>

"You can't be like this forever." He looked sympathetic but his voice was stern. "Does this come as any surprise to you?" He closed the door behind him and looked at Tomoyo with pity. She cried harder while angrily wiping her tears like a small child and fell onto the sofa.

Eriol took a seat at the other end of the couch and simply glanced in Tomoyo's direction once her sobs quieted down.

"I feel really sick," she said, gasping for air.

"You're just making yourself feel that way." He reached over for her trembling shoulders and pulled her towards his lap, allowing her to rest her head on his thighs. Her long hair spilled over onto the floor like a waterfall. Eriol ran his fingertips along her eyelids and pushed her bangs to the side, getting a full view of her tear-stained face as she sighed.

"Sakura is going to get married to Syaoran, and you won't do anything to prevent her happiness. You'd rather die than see her lose her chance at a fairytale-perfect life."

Tomoyo sighed again in response. She knew well that she would never find it in her to do anything to harm Sakura; Sakura was her angel, her precious blossom, the love of her life. Even as a child Tomoyo knew that Sakura would never understand the love she held for her, but the years between then and adulthood were blissful times when Tomoyo could at least indulge in the delusion of greedily keeping Sakura for herself.

Engagement and marriage were realities that shattered everything and sent it all to hell.

"I just want to forget," she said in a pained voice. "I want these stupid memories to go away. I don't want to love her anymore... please, you have to help me."

"What you ask for is a dangerous wish," Eriol warned. "Erasing a feeling this strong is also erasing a portion of your own soul. You'll feel as though something was missing every day, and you'll toss and turn every night tortured by a gaping hole left from a memory pulled from the fabric of your mind."

Such grandiose language was typical of Eriol's personal vernacular, but this time it came without the usual pompous humor. Tomoyo opened her eyes to see his exhausted expression. She lifted her arm to glide her fingers across his cheek. A weak smile creased his lips.

"That's why I didn't erase my own memory of Kaho after she left me." He gently touched her lips. "Humans are resilient in that foolhardy way. They endure, forget and then move on. It just takes some time."

Tomoyo took his cool hand and placed it against her burning forehead. She still felt nauseous but his words and touch had calmed her.

"How did we become friends like this?" she asked in a quiet voice as she closed her eyes again. He began to stroke her hair.

"Because, my dear, misery loves company."

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><p><strong>End Note<strong>: If this wasn't made clear in the summary, I'd just like to state that this is a collection of one-shots with little to no linearity from chapter to chapter. Parts 4 to 6 or 7 may be connected with the same conflict/subject, but I'm basically assuming free reign with the rest of the one shot/drabbles. This is mostly for me to indulge in sweet Eriol/Tomoyo fanfic writing times without sticking to just one storyline, which I like doing as well. My apologies if some stories seem odd or out of order... there really is no order. But, I still hope you all enjoy the Eriol/Tomoyo love! Thanks for reading, and there is more to come. Please do send me a comment with any thoughts or suggestions. I'm in a rare writing mood nowadays.


	6. Drown

**PART SIX**: Drown

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><p><strong>oOoOoOo<strong>

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><p>Behind the fuss of traditional customs lies a pristine serenity that comes attached with all weddings. Perhaps it's from the air filled with the hope and anticipation of many years of blissful matrimony on behalf of the newly wed couple, or maybe it's all the flowers that decorate the room.<p>

Eriol found certain practices in weddings to be needlessly complex, but he was quite indifferent overall. He would have much rather concentrated on the pleasantries of weddings rather than criticize an outdated tradition in all its cultural flavors.

So he sat complacently with the rest of the audience, relaxed in his seat and contemplating the amount of work Ye-Lan Li hired to have every decorative piece in order and the cost of the production team Sonomi Daidouji called to record her niece's wedding. Of course, pre-wedding planning could bring out the worst in some people.

Eriol glanced to his left where Tomoyo sat. She was very obviously not as content as he was feeling; her body was elegantly poised- very carefully so- but her hands were writhing around a sheet of tissue paper, tearing it into tiny pieces which landed in her lap or onto the floor.

The months before the wedding had been a great struggle for the young woman. She neither wanted to watch this particular bride get married to the groom nor be the maid of honor for their wedding, and now she just had to make it through the ceremony without imploding. Tomoyo tapped her foot at some moments and grunted impatiently, furrowing her brows and biting her lip. A few times it seemed as though she wanted to claw at his arm and shriek for it all to be over.

It was quite amusing, Eriol admitted to himself, to watch a normally reserved and nearly perfect human being writhe in such discomfort. He set aside his sadistic mentality and placed his hands on top of hers, signaling for her to leave the tissue alone.

Catching her eye he whispered, "It's almost over." Her hands stopped moving and she drew out a quiet sigh, loosening the tension that was previously present in her shoulders. She gave him a small nod.

As his spiritual half-daughter and spiritual descendant exchanged their vows and rings, a swell of happiness took over and he began to applaud for the couple. Sakura, beaming in her flowing white gown, looked at Eriol and Tomoyo and offered an even wider smile. Syaoran grinned bashfully and waved. Tomoyo's smile was difficult to read.

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><p>They managed to find a quiet area on the balcony outside the reception hall. Tomoyo unpinned her hair, letting it fall against her back as she leaned against the railing. Eriol loosened his tie and stood next to her, looking at the trees and grass below them.<p>

"Thank you," she said, "for keeping me well-behaved during the wedding."

"Of course. There was no way I would let you ruin my daughter's wedding, anyway."

She smirked.

"I always forget about the fucked up family tree."

Hues of orange from the setting sun brushed everything with a warm glow. Eriol softly stroked her upper arm, which was cool to the touch. She shuddered and turned to face him.

"Would you like to leave this place and check out a bar with me?" Tomoyo asked.

"Won't Sakura or your mother mind?"

"They probably would."

Tomoyo offered him a brittle smile, her cold fingers running along his own in an attempt to persuade him. Her eyes seemed tired, an expression suitable for someone who had endured the wedding of her love to someone else for the past four hours. He smiled back.

"Let's just try not to get too plastered."


	7. Numb

**PART SEVEN:** Numb

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><p><strong>oOoOoOo<strong>

* * *

><p>During the three- or was it four?- years after the separation, Eriol had shared a bed with nearly as many people as Clow had during his own lifetime. Perhaps it could be characterized as some twisted sex binge he started to relieve his frustrations. Maybe it was a form of revenge. Maybe he was competing with Clow to be the more sexually promiscuous one.<p>

If anything, Eriol simply felt numb.

He still enjoyed the feeling of skin upon skin and the tickling breeze of breath on skin. He enjoyed it as one would enjoy a snack: delightful but unfulfilling. He first moved on to other women, from beautiful to plain, voluptuous to lithe, and found that none of them could cure him of his maddening disease. So he also seduced a variety of gorgeous and ordinary men (among them a handful whose declaration of their "straight" machismo had collapsed into a torturous questioning of their own sexuality) and found no cure either.

_Kaho_.

Eriol cursed the name he loved, yearning to have her back and simultaneously longing to lodge her out of his mind forever. He hated her and was still madly in love, but he knew too fully well that he wasn't going to get her back.

It was Clow Reed she was so enamored with, not Eriol. She was attracted to the power and the magic of the man Eriol inherited his soul from. The realization must have hit her like a freight train, as she packed only a small fraction of her belongings and left a cruelly short note for him.

'_You deserve someone better. Don't try to look for me._'

In Tomoyo Daidouji, Eriol found a kindred spirit- the only other human being who could understand his heartache with a compassion that formed from the residual effects of her own strange problem. Her love for Sakura was itself "wrong" by societal standards, but he certainly wasn't one to pass judgements.

Tomoyo sat back in her seat, facing the ceiling of the hotel suite and blowing plumes of smoke from her lips. Her fingers clutched a glass of golden wine, which sparkled under the warm light of the room. His primal instincts urged him to settle next to her and stroke her skin, peeling off her well-tailored clothes and getting her in bed. They were drunk enough to lazily enjoy some physical contact, but Eriol knew better than that. He had made some sort of an emotional and mental connection with her that blocked him from acting out his thoughts.

Of course, he didn't raise any objections when she glided over to his seat and sat on his lap, the smell of opium and alcohol and her own floral perfume pleasing his senses. She pushed back his hair and pressed her lips to his forehead. He dared to move his hand under her skirt and along her leg. A quick surge of excitement leaped through his body upon this contact; it was jolting and surprisingly sudden, cracking the shell of ennui that had for so long kept him from experiencing any sensual stimulus impressive enough to brag about.

A hum sounded from her at his touch, further increasing his heartbeat.

"I somehow feel better when I'm with you, Hiiragizawa. Why is that?"

"Because we always manage to get high and drunk when we get together."

She smiled against his hair and ran her fingers along the folds of his ear, agonizing him further.

"Getting high and drunk is _only_ fun when done with good company, you know."

"You certainly are wise."


End file.
